


Light in the Darkness

by shinysylver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bathroom Sex, Body Worship, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Gentle Castiel, Grace Kink, Hand Jobs, Hurt Dean Winchester, Loving Castiel, M/M, Painful Sex, Rough Sex, Spitroasting, Understanding Castiel, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unsafe Sex, all of that was with the OMCs, because Dean is trying to forget Amara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 04:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6689524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysylver/pseuds/shinysylver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean will do anything to forget about Amara. Thankfully Cas is there to pick up the pieces and show him that light is the only thing that can banish the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by episode 11.13 when Dean came in after Valentine's Day with hickeys and looking rough. It seemed clear to me that his night carousing had been his attempt to actively forget about Amara. I just took that a lot farther...

Dean leaned over the sink, his pants around his ankles. He gripped the edges of the basin tight enough to make his knuckles white, trying to keep upright as the man behind him thrust harshly forward. 

Each movement burned because Dean hadn't bothered with lube or preparation or anything that would make this more than it was. This was about quieting the incessant whispering in his mind and spit was good enough for that. In fact it was preferable because the more it hurt, the easier it was for Dean to block out everything but the cock moving in his ass. 

Amara's pull on him had grown stronger and stronger as the weeks went by and most of the time he could barely push it aside long enough to function. He wanted to go to her so badly, but he'd found that he could quiet it, just for a moment, by losing himself in other people. He'd started with women of course, but eventually that hadn't worked because every single one of them reminded him of _her_. 

That's when he'd started hooking up with men. 

The man--Dean hadn't bothered to get his name--changed angles and his next thrust scraped against Dean's prostate sending sparks up his spine that temporarily blocked out the pain. The way the pleasure whited out his thoughts was almost as good as the pain and when you mixed them together his mind finally quieted. 

He pushed himself back trying to get the man's cock where he wanted it, but the man grabbed his hips and held him still, seeking his own satisfaction at the expense of Dean's. 

"He's got pretty lips."

Dean glanced at the mirror--carefully avoiding meeting his own eyes--and saw another man leaning against the door. He'd apparently come in at some point while Dean was distracted and was enjoying the show.

"Wanna try them?" the man fucking Dean asked. He slapped Dean's ass hard enough to sting. "That okay with you?"

Dean nodded. He'd given a few blowjobs before--mostly to get the dick wet enough for his ass--and they'd helped clear his mind too. Letting the men use him, fucking his mouth until he could barely breathe, was a great distraction. The thought of doing that while he was being fucked actually had his dick trying to get hard. It wasn't much use though, the pain and the half a bottle of whiskey he'd downed at the bar kept him soft. 

The first man pulled out, making Dean hiss, and spun him around so that he was facing the new guy. Before he had a chance to feel empty the man behind him stabbed back into him. 

"He's so fucking tight," the first man said. "His mouth was pretty good too."

The second man already had his cock out and was stroking it slowly. It was huge, bigger than the one in Dean's ass and he suddenly wished their positions were reversed. That dick would hurt so perfectly. He could just imagine it stretching his rim nearly to the breaking point.

"Open up."

Dean obediently opened his mouth and the man wasted no time plunging in so deep that it immediately triggered his gag reflex. He choked around the cock and tried to pull off, but the man grabbed his hair tight and forced him to stay still. 

"Be a good boy and take it."

Dean felt himself relax at the words. Later when this was over, he was going to hate the way the rough treatment and domineering made him feel so damn good, but he was too far gone at the moment to give a fuck. The man in his ass had sped up and the new position had every movement brushing his prostate. Couple that with the cock in his throat nearly suffocating him and his mind was floating in detached bliss. 

He lost track of time as his mind drifted, empty of all concern, but eventually the man in his ass stuttered to a stop. A loud groan marked his orgasm. 

The man in his mouth followed shortly after, pulling out as he came and spurting hot come across Dean's face. 

Dean collapsed forward onto his knees as they both zipped up and left without a word. When he was alone in the bathroom he took a moment to revel in the used feeling before standing up. Even half drunk, he hurt. There was jizz, pink with blood, running down his leg and he knew he should worry about that, but really, getting an STD would almost be a refreshing change in his life. It was the kind of crap normal people dealt with. He'd take the clap over an all powerful force of darkness trying to bad touch him any day. 

And there it was. She was back in his head. The vacation was over and all of the humiliation and self-loathing was rushing in on him. He needed another drink.

He pulled up his pants, wincing at the pain as he bent over. He was pretty sure something had seriously torn this time. Shaking it off the way only a man used to being shot and stabbed on a semi-regular basis could, he grabbed a paper towel to wipe the jizz off of his face.

Once he'd done the bare minimum to make himself presentable, Dean stumbled out of the bathroom and immediately pulled up short because Cas was standing outside the door. 

"What?" Dean asked defensively. He pulled his shirtsleeves down to cover the hand-shaped bruises on his arms. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you might need a ride home," Cas said calmly and damn him for not even looking the least bit judgmental. Dean was fucking judging himself and he wished that Cas would too. 

"Maybe I'm not ready to go home."

"Then I'll wait."

Dean brushed past Cas and headed straight for the bar. The unavoidable limp and his mussed clothes made it clear what he'd been up to, but he glared at anyone who so much as smirked in his direction. 

He slapped the bar. "Jack Daniels and leave the bottle."

The grizzled bartender gave him an unimpressed look, but was happy enough to take the cash Dean threw down in exchange for a glass and the half empty bottle that he'd been working on before his trip to the restroom. Dean poured himself a double shot and tossed it back, hoping to clear the taste of jizz and unwashed cock from his mouth. It was disgusting.

Cas sat down on the stool next to him and grabbed an empty glass from further down the bar. It had obviously been used, but when Cas touched it the smudges disappeared and it sparkled like new. 

"Show off," Dean muttered. He poured them both a shot of liquor. 

Cas sipped at the whiskey. He didn't say anything just sitting in silence until Dean couldn't stand it any longer.

"Fuck," Dean ran his hand through his hair, wincing at the jizz he found there. He was a mess. "I just needed something _anything_ to make her go away."

"I know." Cas reached out and rested his hand on Dean's wrist. "It's okay, Dean."

"It's really not." Dean fiddled with the bottle, pouring himself another shot in order to avoid looking at Cas. "You shouldn't be here."

"If you need this, then I need to make sure you get home okay." There was something so gentle, so kind, in Cas' voice that it almost broke Dean. 

His eyes blurred and he blinked the moisture away, blaming the alcohol because it was easier than the truth. He drained the rest of his drink and slammed the glass down. "I think I'm ready now."

Dean stood up and had to hold on to the stool to steady himself. The alcohol was hitting him harder than he'd expected. Well that and his ass fucking hurt. 

"I don't think I should drive."

Cas nodded. "I'll drive your car. You shouldn't leave it here overnight."

Dean passed the keys to his baby over. The bar was an absolute dive and the last thing he needed was for the Impala to be missing her tires or worse in the morning. They both knew that the Impala was irreplaceable, unlike Cas' car. 

Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey, ignoring the dirty look from the bartender. He'd paid more than enough to take it with him. 

He took a few painful steps forward, weaving more than a little, before Cas grabbed his elbow to help guide him out of the bar. 

"Why are you being so cool with this?" Dean asked as Cas helped him into the passenger seat.

Cas didn't answer until he'd moved around to the driver's side and slid in behind the wheel. "I have no right to judge your actions, Dean. None."

"It's not that I want to do it," Dean tried to explain, his words loosened by the booze. He tapped the side of his head. "But she's here all the time and she won't shut the fuck up." He clawed his fingers and dug his nails into his scalp. "I wish I could just dig her out."

Cas reached over and grabbed Dean's hand, pulling it firmly away from his head. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Too late." He leaned back against the seat, trying to find a position that didn't make his injuries worse. Once he'd settled, he turned his head to watch Cas. "Besides, the pain drowns her out."

"I'm sure there are other ways."

Dean shrugged. "Not that I've found."

Cas studied him in that disturbingly intense way of his. It made Dean want to squirm and he took a swallow of whiskey straight from the bottle as a distraction. 

"It's probably not a good idea to drink that in the car," Cas told him as he put the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. He was carefully holding the wheel with his hands at ten and two. His grip was almost reverent which Dean appreciated. It was good that Cas respected his car. 

"Don't get pulled over and it won't matter," Dean replied, but he did screw the top on and set it on the floor. He was starting to get queasy anyway. They were about forty minutes from the Bunker and the last thing he wanted to do was stop to puke. 

Dean had picked a bar two towns over because hadn't wanted to accidentally run into Sam or someone he might see at the grocery store in Lebanon. Besides, the bar he picked was next to a truck stop and had quite a reputation. It was perfect for his needs.

"How'd you find me?"

"I'll always find you, Dean," Cas replied. The words sounded like a vow and they stirred something in him even through the numbing haze of alcohol. People, including Cas, always left him. Rarely did they come back. 

"That's kinda stalkery," Dean said in an attempt to brush aside the uncomfortable emotions the way he always did when Cas said shit like that.

"It's no less than you've always done for me." 

Dean shook his head and shifted so that he could rest his forehead against the cool window. "Clearly we both have issues."

When Cas didn't reply, he closed his eyes and let the familiar motion of the car lull him to sleep.

***

"Dean...Dean wake up, we're home."

Dean jolted awake as Cas shook his shoulder and immediately regretted it. The movement made pain shoot up his spine and his stomach roiled. "I need to barf."

He fumbled awkwardly with the door handle, desperate to save the upholstery. When the door finally opened, he practically fell out of the car and emptied his stomach onto the garage floor. 

"I usually hold my liquor better than this," Dean muttered. He scooted back to lean against the car and tried not to breathe through his nose. He really hated puke.

"Perhaps next time you should eat something with your whiskey," Cas suggested. If Sam had said it, it would have been snarky, but Cas was just matter-of-fact about it. "It would probably help if you ate something now."

Dean pressed a hand to his mouth and swallowed hard. Food was the last thing he wanted to think about at the moment. "Right now I just want to brush my teeth."

Cas wordlessly held out a hand and Dean took it, letting Cas pull him to his feet. Cas lifted him one handed, taking almost all of his weight as if he were light as a feather. There were definitely advantages to having a friend with super strength. 

Once he was standing, Cas put an arm around him and helped him make his way out of the garage.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked as they entered the hallway. The last thing he needed was for his brother to see him like this. He'd never hear the end of it and he'd be stuck with Sam giving him those sad, worried looks for weeks. He hated those looks.

"He's already asleep," Cas answered. "But only because I texted him when I found you."

"So it's a conspiracy. Great."

"I didn't tell him what I found, nor will I," Cas said. "But you can't expect to disappear for entire nights without him noticing."

When they reached the bathroom, Cas helped him sit down on the closed toilet. He couldn't hide the flinch when his ass hit the lid and Cas definitely noticed. 

Dean waved a hand dismissively. "I'm fine."

Cas gave him a long, concerned look before going to the sink and returning with a glass of water and a damp cloth. "Drink that and then take off your clothes."

Dean sputtered, choking on a mouthful of water. "What?"

"Your clothes are dirty," Cas said. He reached out with the washcloth and rubbed at the patch of Dean's hair with the jizz in it. 

Dean tried to swat Cas' hand away, but Cas ignored him. "What are you doing?"

Cas pulled back and gave Dean a serious look. "Please let me take care of you."

Dean wasn't used to being taken care of. He was the one who looked after everyone else. That's the way it had always been, but he couldn't deny that there was a part of him that had always longed for someone to be that for him. Cas had always been the person who'd come the closest since he'd already seen Dean at his absolute worst in Hell and had never held it against him. It made it easier to be weak in front of him. 

Dean sighed and pulled his shirt off, tossing it into the corner. Cas took the action for the invitation it was and knelt down in front of Dean, carefully running the washcloth over his arms. 

The cool cloth felt good on his skin, but he knew Cas was cheating because it didn't just wipe the scum off of his skin, it took away the bruises too. He just wasn't sure why Cas was bothering with the cloth when all it would take was two fingers to the forehead and Dean would be good as new. Well physically as good as new. He was pretty sure the warranty was voided on the rest of him. 

"Stand up," Cas directed.

Dean did as he was told, gritting his teeth at the pain radiating out from his ass. He couldn't tell which was worse, sitting or standing. Both were pretty awful and moving between them was murder.

Cas unbuckled Dean's belt and pulled his jeans down which exposed everything since he'd gone commando to the bar. Dean blushed and dropped his hands, trying to cover his penis out of some sort of misplaced modesty. It wasn't like Cas hadn't seen it before--after all he'd reconstructed every inch of Dean's body after Hell--but it still felt wrong. Cas, his best friend, an angel of the fucking lord, was on his knees with Dean's junk in his face trying to clean up jizz and blood.

Dean reached down and grabbed Cas' arm and tried to pull him up. "You shouldn't… I can…." He took a shaky breath. "Cas, you shouldn't have to do this. If you want to help, you can just use your Grace."

Cas sat back against his heels and tilted his head at Dean consideringly. "Are you familiar with the practice of foot washing?"

"I know it's in the Bible," Dean answered. That was about all he knew since he didn't have much use for the verses that didn't help him kill monsters. 

Cas nodded. "It's not unique to the Bible of course, but it plays a significant role in a few parts. For example, Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. Dean, he knelt before them and washed their feet."

"So?"

"So doing this for you is not degrading to me. Please let me take care of you and honor you in this way," Cas said. 

"Honor?" Dean repeated doubtfully. "Not much honor in cleaning pervy trucker off of my leg."

Cas gently rubbed the cloth along the inside of Dean's thigh. He kept his attention completely focused on the cloth as he spoke. "It is no less than you would do for me." 

Dean wanted to deny that, but he knew Cas would see through it. There wasn't much that he wouldn't do for Cas. It was frankly terrifying how far he would go for Cas.

He sighed and dropped his hands to his side, giving Cas free reign.

Cas swiped closer to Dean's groin. He was wiping carefully, when he suddenly frowned and leaned closer. He stared intently at Dean's dick, almost like he was seeing through the skin. 

Dean shifted nervously. It wasn't a good sign when someone looked at your penis like it was some sort of clinical specimen that had been found wanting. "What?"

"You have syphilis."

Dean looked down at his own dick, but it looked normal to him. "People still get that?"

"People who don't use condoms do," Cas said and for the first time all night there was irritation in his voice. 

Dean actually found that aggravation relieving. After all, if their roles were reversed, he'd be yelling at Cas for doing something so stupid. "It didn't seem important at the time."

Cas laid his hand on Dean's lower abdomen and he felt the familiar wave of warmth rush through his body as Cas healed him. The rest of his bruises disappeared along with the pain in his ass and he assumed the syphilis. The lingering taste of puke was even washed away leaving his mouth minty fresh. Unfortunately his buzz disappeared too.

"You're the one who taught me never to have sex without protection," Cas said. "You made me get tested after April, even though she was a reaper and unlikely to carry disease."

This conversation was awkward enough without having to look down at Cas kneeling in front of him so Dean sat back down on the toilet, thankfully without pain this time. "What do you want me to say? That I fucked up? I know that."

Cas sighed and returned to wiping at Dean's legs even though it was no longer necessary. "If you'd found Sam or I in that bathroom tonight, what would you have done?"

"I know I wouldn't have washed your feet," Dean tried to joke, but Cas didn't even crack a smile. He reached down and stopped Cas' hand holding it in place. "I'm sorry I worried you, but I'm a mess right now."

"Dean, we're both a mess pretty much all of the time."

Dean sighed. "What would you have me do, Cas? This is the only thing I've found to keep me sane short of actually going to Amara."

"Chasing the darkness doesn't seem like the best way to keep it out," Cas said. "I fear you're only opening yourself to her more."

Dean hadn't thought about it that way. Maybe skulking around in the darkest corners of his desires wasn't a good way to distract himself. 

"Do you trust me, Dean?" Cas asked.

Dean looked into Cas' eyes and was surprised to see that he was nervous as if he actually thought that Dean would say no. "With my life."

Cas relaxed fractionally. "Then please let me show you a different way."

Dean nodded. He wasn't sure what Cas had in mind, but anything was worth a try. 

Cas smiled and resumed cleaning Dean. He spoke quietly as he worked. "You've been seeking out sex as a way to sate the desire you feel for Amara. That desire is artificial. It was forced upon you in the worst of violations."

"Tell me something I don't know," Dean muttered.

"So long as you are turning to sex with strangers, you will never truly find relief," Cas continued. 

"What's the alternative?"

"Sex with someone who loves you," Cas answered. "A true emotional connection, not one forced upon you, but one that is rooted in genuine affection.

Dean's first instinct was to scoff. After all who in their right mind loved him? But as he watched the slow blush dusting Cas' cheeks, he suddenly understood. 

"Cas," he said gently. He reached down and tilted Cas' chin up so that he could see his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I love you," Cas said simply. "I am _in love_ with you."

Dean had no idea how to respond. Next to Sam, Cas was the most important person in his life and the idea that Cas was in love with him was terrifying. No matter what happened their relationship wouldn't be the same. There was no going back from that kind of admission and the last thing he wanted to do was screw up their friendship.

"Please say something, Dean." 

Dean looked at the man in front of him. He loved Cas, but until this moment he'd always thought of it as a familial love. He'd tried to fit Cas into the same box as Sam, the one labeled "brother," but it had never been quite right. Now that he was confronted with Cas' declaration, he suddenly understood why. 

Sam was his brother, but Cas was his partner. Cas had been there for him when no one else had. He was Dean's shoulder to lean on during the rough times and when Cas had been possessed by Lucifer, Dean had felt like a piece of his own soul was missing. 

"Dean?" Cas whispered, sounding nervous. "Forget what I said, we can continue as we were--"

"No," Dean interrupted him, his voice rough with emotion. He cupped Cas' face and leaned forward, kissing him carefully. 

The kiss was almost unbearably gentle. He'd never kissed anyone with such care, but this was Cas and he deserved to be cherished. He deserved so much more than Dean could give him, but Dean didn't think he could reject him now even if it was for his own good.

He pulled back after a moment. "I don't want to forget."

Cas appeared dazed, but he managed to give Dean a small smile. "Good."

Cas scooted forward and resumed running the cloth over Dean's thigh. Each movement was sliding closer and closer to Dean's dick and now that he was sober and not in agony his dick was starting to stir. 

"You sure about this?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. Most of the time you are the only thing that I'm certain of."

Somehow that made Dean blush more than being naked did. Hearing Cas say things like that made him feel more exposed than anything he'd done tonight. It also made him want to kiss Cas again, so he did.

Cas pressed forward, briefly deepening the kiss before breaking away. "Let me do this for you. Just lean back."

Dean sat back against the cold porcelain of the toilet tank and watched as Cas gently ran the damp cloth down the length of his cock. The rough texture of the terrycloth and the cool water made Dean shiver. 

Cas took his time cleaning Dean's dick, his brow furrowed in concentration as he caressed down the shaft and over each one of Dean's balls. By the time Cas had finished, Dean was hard and leaking precome. 

"Cas," Dean whispered. He ran his hand tenderly through Cas' hair. 

Cas smiled at him and tilted his head so that his cheek was resting against the palm of Dean's hand. "It's all about choice. Naomi tried to take mine away, but she could never erase what I feel for you. Manufactured emotions can't stand up to the real thing."

That was the rub--it all came down to choice. Dean didn't have a choice when it came to Amara, but his relationship with Cas had been nothing but choices. Cas had chosen Dean, even though it meant turning his back on everything he'd ever known and he'd repeated that choice over and over again. And in return Dean had chosen to trust Cas, to forgive Cas, to fight for Cas, and to save Cas even when everyone was telling him not to. Each step of the way he'd had a choice and in the end he had always chosen Cas. _He would always choose Cas._

"You should know...I feel the same way about you." Dean couldn't actually say the words, not yet, maybe not ever. But he wanted to be as clear as he was able. "I've told you before that I need you, but you should also know that I _want_ you."

Somehow just staring into the deep blue of Cas' kind eyes was more soothing to him than any of his meaningless hookups had been. Amara's presence had been relegated to a quiet whisper in the back of his mind and he felt more at peace and centered than he had in months. 

Not breaking eye contact, Cas took Dean's cock in hand and stroked him. Each caress was firm and smooth and after the extended foreplay, it wasn't going to take long for Dean to come. As he was teetering on the brink of orgasm, he briefly saw a soft blue glow deep in Cas' eyes and he was suddenly reminded that Cas was a being of light. His Grace was pure and bright, so very different from Amara's darkness. 

"Show me," Dean said urgently as he rolled his hips to meet Cas' hand. "Show me your light."

Cas seemed surprised, but let his Grace show in his eyes, more intensely this time. It wasn't enough to hurt Dean, but it was enough for him to feel it prickle at his skin. It was like static electricity dancing over his entire body and the sensation pushed him over the edge.

Dean closed his eyes and basked in the pleasure as it washed over him. Wave after wave hit him making his toes curl and his muscles tense up. 

When he finally came down enough to open his eyes, Cas had retrieved the washcloth and was wiping away Dean's release. 

"Thank you," Dean whispered roughly. 

"Always." 

"Do you want me to--" Dean gestured awkwardly at the obvious bulge in Cas' trousers. 

Cas shook his head. "Later. If you don't mind I'd rather just lay with you for a while."

"You want to cuddle?" Dean wasn't usually that much of a cuddler, but his orgasm had left him boneless and tired and the idea of catching a few hours of sleep with Cas next to him sounded pretty damn good at the moment. "I think I can handle that."

Cas stood up and took Dean's hand, silently leading him out of the bathroom and across the hall to Dean's room. Dean had just enough presence of mind to be grateful once again that Sam was already in bed, because he last thing he wanted to do was stop to explain why he was wandering the halls naked, holding hands with Cas.

Telling Sam about his new relationship with Cas was definitely a conversation that would go better with clothes on, although he did think that Sam would be happy for him. Amara, on the other hand, definitely wouldn't be, but Dean was relieved to realize that he truly didn't give a fuck. 

Her darkness had been chased away by Cas' light.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [shinysylver!](http://shinysylver.tumblr.com/)


End file.
